


And the Stone of Cintamani

by whimseyrhodes



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: sick!jake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 11:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14976251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimseyrhodes/pseuds/whimseyrhodes
Summary: When Jake becomes ill during a search of the Cathedral Petra, it becomes a race to find a cure. And then a fight to get him to accept it.





	1. If You Prick Me....

**Author's Note:**

> This is for SueLyn who wanted a sick!Jake fic. Hope this fits the bill.
> 
> Special thanks to Mary Boatman for the help in researching for The Cintamani Stone.

“….shit….” Eve barely heard the mutter behind her before the awful wheezing began again, and she and Cassandra whirled around, one on each side of the scholar. Jake was pale, his lips beginning to turn blue as he stumbled. The women helped him sit and watched as the symptoms gradually eased until he was breathing normally.

Two months before, the LIT’s had been on a mission that had ended about as well as their missions ever did, but the lasting, and debilitating, effects were only now being realized.

 

*******

 

Ezekiel and Stone had been investigating the lower level of an old church while Eve, Cassandra and Flynn had been in the vestibule on the main floor distracting the bishop who was trying to draw them into discussion. Eve was trying her best not to roll her eyes out loud, wishing that Jake was here instead, but she knew that his encyclopedic knowledge of Latin was needed more below, where he and the thief were looking for the parchment that the Clipping Book had sent them after.

Within the six weeks prior, eight priests had been found in their confessionals, dead, without a sign of causation. The Medical Examiners had chalked the deaths up to natural causes, and no one questioned it because each one was in a different country. The Library, however, had obviously found a connection between all the deaths.

So now they were here, at the Cathedral in Petra, trying their hardest to distract the priest so that Jake could find the parchment and hopefully make some sense of it. Jones was there in case he needed to….borrow…the parchment.

“Disce quasi semper victurus vive quasi cras moriturus…” Ezekiel could hear Stone muttering in the corner, his head bent over a pile of loose parchments and scrolls. He huffed another sigh and started to nose around the collection of important looking chests. ‘Important looking’, meaning covered with gold gilt and scrollwork, with ornate locking mechanisms that the thief’s fingers ached to play with.

“Jones, get away from that,” the scholar grumbled, watching out of the corner of his eyes as the other man moved closer and closer to the priceless artifacts. “Just because this place is a tourist trap above doesn’t mean that the security down here is lacking. I mean, you had to break us in through three different doors, for crying out loud.”

“But you’re _boring_ , mate,” the Australian pouted, letting his head fall back on his shoulders as he turned. “This whole _place_ is boring.”

“Well, I’m so sorry about that,” Jake snapped, looking fully at the thief and glaring. “Why don’t _you_ get over here and translate then?”

Ezekiel just gave Stone a withering look and spun back to the pretties.

“Veneficum…um…..spiritum… This looks like… Wait, what?! The Malleus _Maleficarum_??!“ Jake breathed in shock, making the thief turn around a third time.

“The Malleus Malefic-who?” he asked.

“Malleus Maleficarum!” Jake said again as if Jones had lost his mind. “The Hammer of Witches! It’s the best known and the most important treatise on witchcraft ever imagined! It was written by the discredited Catholic clergyman Heinrich Kramer, under his Latinized name Henricus Institoris, of course, and first published in the German city of Speyer in 1487. It’s…. Aaaaand you’re not listening to me, are you.” The last was a statement rather than a question.

“Of course not.”

Jake shot the thief a dark look that Ezekiel ignored, rolling his eyes and resuming his wandering. A grumble from behind him made his head swung back around.

“What?” Jones asked, seeing Jake shaking his hand out.

“Huh? Nothing, must have pinched my finger or something,” Jake said, distracted and still annoyed. The majority of his attention was focused on the book and parchment in front of him. “Anyway, I think I found what the Library was after. And…I think we should probably take the Book too.”

“Hey now, weren’t you the one who just told me to keep my mitts away from the interesting stuff?”

Jake turned up his lip and stuck his tongue out at the thief before his face changed totally. “Watch out!” he yelped, lunging forward. The stack of chests and assorted relics that Jones was standing by (and he wasn’t touching them, he _wasn't_ ) started to tilt like an oversized Jenga game with Ezekiel right in it’s path. Stone crashed into the thief just before it tumbled to the ground with a crash.

“Damn….” he muttered, sitting up and watching the last of the little gold statues fall.

“…ow…”

Jones looked over to see Jake rubbing the side of his head, his eyes scrunched closed in pain. “Hey, you okay?” he asked.

A growling grunt was his only answer as the scholar stood up, stumbling once before righting himself. “‘M fine. Let’s get out of here before someone comes to find out what that noise was,” Jake grumbled. “And before you decide to drop anything _else_ on my damn head.”

The back door whooshed to life and they went through, bickering back and forth like usual, returning to the Library only to find that Flynn, Eve and Cassandra had beaten them there.

“What was that crash?” Eve asked, and Jake just shot a look to the thief, whose eyes bulged. “Not me!” he exclaimed.

“Oh yeah?” Jake returned, continuing the argument, looking a little flushed. “Then why did it just _happen_ to fall when you were right next to it??”

Jenkins interrupted the soon-to-be-tirade between the two by simply stepping between them, facing Jake. “I see you’ve found something of interest, Mr. Stone?” The curator looked down pointedly at the scroll and book he was holding.

“Mmmm. Yeah,” Jake said, moving to put them onto the center table so the rest could follow along with his translations. “So I found out that….”

 

*******

 

Eventually they managed to discover through the parchment that the priests had been poisoned through means of the Malleus Maleficarum, which was then hidden in the bowels of the Library, warded with charms and spells. The culprits, a group of underlings in the Church who called themselves the Order of Mortum Caeli, or basically, Dead Air, had used a spell from the treatise to literally steal the breath from the priests so that others from their Order could take their places. The Librarians, having stopped their trail of death, notified the Church of what had happened and the priests of the Order were quickly replaced, leaving the Order of Mortum Caeli back where they started, only now with the eyes of the Church watching for the hidden members that were left.

It was as good a solution as they could come up with, and the LITs decided to take a well earned rest. They’d worked six cases back to back, and Flynn had disappeared like usual through three of them, leaving the younger members of the team carrying the extra weight. All four of them were exhausted from endless door crossings and close calls, chases and treks across various landscapes, from the hills of Budapest to the rainforests of Brazil and seemingly everywhere in between. At times Eve thought the Library had even sent them across the deserts of Mars just for a little variety.

Cassandra was going to go to the Minnesota Sculpture Garden, because she’d never seen a cherry on a spoon bigger than she was, and the moment Jake had mentioned it in passing she’d put it on her bucket list.

Jones was debating on going with her, because he was interested in listening to the northern Norwegian drawl with all of the ‘Oy vey, you betcha, yah sure’s and even Snookums’. He’d been adamant that he didn’t want to go wherever Stone was going, ever since the argument that Eve had had to nip in the bud that Jake had been ‘whining ever since Petra’. The scholar kept reminding him that Ezekiel had caused something very heavy and very painful to fall on his head and probably gave him a concussion, thank you very much, but the Australian waved that off as inconsequential.

It was either Ezekiel go with Cassandra or be the third wheel with Eve and Flynn, wherever they were going. The choice made, he followed behind her as she sprang through the door, which shut behind them only to open again to the Guardian’s choice of Hawaii for a much waited for vacation on the Big Island.

Jake was the last to leave. He was planning to go back to Oklahoma, not to go back to his home but to revisit some of his fishing haunts from when he was younger. A fishing hat sat on top of his tackle box and a couple fishing rods beside the door waiting for him, but he was in the bathroom, trying his best not to throw up the last of his dinner but losing the battle.

He’d suffered with a nagging headache for the past couple of days, ever since getting clobbered by the trinket when he and Jones had stolen the Malleus Maleficarum. In truth, the artifact had only been the size of his hand but he swore was made of lead for the size of the ache it left behind.

Sighing, he rinsed out his mouth and splashed water onto his face, then hung his head as he braced himself with his hands on the counter top, trying to make his head stop spinning. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he was coming down with the flu or something. Sucking it up, he raked his hand through his hair and left his rooms, heading down the hall to the staircase, fully intending to take his vacation just like all the others.

When he got to the stairs, however, his vision wavered, making the steps wobble like liquid. Grabbing onto the handrail out of instinct, he waited for it to settle before descending, his face feeling hotter and hotter by the second. He groaned out loud as he got to the door and looked down at his fishing rod. He’d really been looking forward to just sitting at the lake and soaking his feet in the cool water, but as the sweat started to drip into his eyes, he realized that he’d better just stay at the Library. At least for a day or two to get rid of this bug.

Grumbling, he picked up the tackle box, hat and poles and returned to his room, his shoulders drooping in disappointment.

 

*******

 

Excited chatter burst into the room as the door flashed to life five days later. Cassie and Jones had managed to hop from Minnesota to Hawaii via the back door the day before, catching up with Eve and Flynn. Now the quartet returned to the Library only to face a stern-faced Jenkins.

“Thank goodness you've all returned, I’ve been waiting,” the caretaker said with some concern. “I was about to call you.”

“What is it?!” Eve rushed to ask, seeing the worry on the older man’s face and growing worried herself. “What happened?” She looked around. “Wait, where’s Jake? Did something happen to Jake??”

“Yes. Well….no. I mean, yes…” Jenkins hedged, as if unsure of how to say it.

“Spit it out, man!” Flynn urged.

“Well, Mr. Stone is rather ill, I’m afraid.”

“What!” Cassandra yelped, starting to bounce on her tiptoes like she did when she became agitated, her hands flapping and tangling with themselves. “What happened?” she repeated.

“I thought it was just a slight concussion,” Jones piped up softly, chewing on his bottom lip.

“He was about to go on his vacation, rather late, as I recall,” Jenkins started up the stairs, the group following as he explained. “His tackle box and reels were gone by the time I got back to the annex, so I thought he’d finally made his trip. It wasn’t until two days later that I heard him in his room.”

By the time he’d filled them in on that much, they were at Jake’s door and Jenkins opened it. Jake lay partially on his side in the bed, the covers rumpled as if he’d kicked half of them off in his sleep. His face was flushed and slick with sweat, and he panted shallowly, his breath harsh and wheezing in his throat.

“Jake!” Cassie gasped at the sight of the normally strong Oklahoman lying so still. She rushed to the bed, perching on the edge as she took his limp hand in hers, her other hand moving to his forehead. “He’s burning up!” she said, looking back imploringly.

Jenkins shook his head. “He’s been alternating wildly from high fevers to shaking chills for the last two days, sometimes reaching nearly 104°, which has been…rather worrying.”

“We need to take him to the hospital,” Eve said, starting forward.

“I’m afraid that modern medicine won’t be able to help in this case,” Jenkins interrupted, stepping in front of the guardian and reaching down for Jake’s hand. Turning it over, they were able to see a faint skull and crossbones hovering like a shadow on the inside of his left wrist.

“It’s the mark of the Malleus Maleficarum,” he said.

“When would he have gotten that?” Flynn wondered. “We locked it up, it’s under wards.…” His voice trailed off as he saw Jones narrow his eyes. “Didn’t we?”

“What?” he startled as Eve bumped his arm. “Yeah. N…what? Oh, yeah, mate. It’s under wards. At least it is _now_.”

“And what do you mean by ‘ _now_ '?” Jenkins asked, rounding on the thief.

“I mean that I think the Malleus Maley-fic-y thing got him before we got it back to the library,” Jones said, unperturbed by the scrutiny. “He poked his finger on it when we were at that church. Like freakin’ Sleeping Beauty.”

“In any case,” Jenkins interjected, stopping the thief in his tracks. “Jake is suffering from a form of ‘Magical Meningitis’, as far as I’m able to surmise. He’s obviously had nausea, limb pain and sensitivity to light, and when lucid, complains of confusion and stiffness of the neck, which is indicative of meningitis. Combined with the shadow, however, it leads me to believe that a hospital will not aid him.”

“So, what can we do?” Cassandra’s voice was small.

“For now, treat the symptoms,” Eve said firmly. “Make him comfortable, keep him cool when he’s got a fever, and bundle him up when he gets cold. Make sure he drinks enough liquids so that he doesn’t get dehydrated.”

“Anything else?” Jones asked.

“Yes!” She whirled on him in frustration and he jerked back a step. “Research! Figure out how to fix this! We’ve a whole library to investigate, so let’s all. Get. _Moving!_ ”


	2. Between a Stone and a Hard Place

The Librarians took turns staying with Jacob while the rest dug into the stacks. An occasional sneeze was heard from one aisle or another when they disturbed centuries of dust and muttering filled the annex as ponderous tomes were sometimes read aloud for better understanding.

“I wish Jake was here,” Cassandra lamented once to Eve, who was sitting at her desk and rubbing her dry eyes. “He’s so much faster at research.”

“Kind of the point,” Eve replied. “We need to find something to get him better so he can be back on the team again. We need his brain.”

“We need more than that.” She looked sadly at the scholar’s empty desk. “We need _him_.”

Against her will, Eve’s eyes traveled to Jakes desk and she nodded. “We do.”

Jenkins came into the room with yet another stack of books in his arms, so high that neither of the women could understand how he was so deftly maneuvering around obstacles since the pile was taller than his head. Unerringly, the caretaker set the stack onto the center table, a plume of dust temporarily rising from the books.

Cassandra sighed.

“Has Mr. Jones come down yet?” Jenkins asked, his head popping out the side to look at them. “How is Mr. Stone doing?”

“I just went to see them,” Flynn said, coming down the stairs with another scroll in his hands. “Jake’s hanging in there. He’s weak and can’t seem to keep much down except broth. Right now, he’s buried himself under about fourteen quilts and is still shivering.”

The object of the group’s worry was indeed buried under a mountain of blankets. Jake’s head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, which was currently playing the Thunder of the Valkyries so loud he could barely hear Jones muttering in the background. He was shivering with cold and the movement ratcheted up the nausea that had settled a bit that afternoon, so now he was torn between staying where he was sort of warm but with the threat of throwing up in bed or bolting to the bathroom and freezing his ass off.

Ezekiel looked up at the moan that drifted from under the pile of quilts. Jake had been sick most of the morning, unable to eat anything and drinking only a minimum amount of water. The fever had abated only long enough for him to eat a little soup before the chills had started to become so bad that the thief was considering bringing in hot water bottles.

“Hey, mate, you okay?” he asked, wincing at the obvious answer. Jake’s only reply was another soft moan.

Jones bit his lip again. He’d been doing his own research on the internet, trying to find anything out from modern sources. His findings had been less than promising; regular meningitis could cause any number of problems, from epilepsy to deafness, even death. Jake’s only hope was for them to find a cure as quickly as possible.

“Wanna diiiieee….” The soft whine came from the bed and Jones stood up, moving closer. He reached out and put his hand on what he thought was probably the scholar’s shoulder. “Hang in there, Jake,” he said. “We’re working as fast as we can.”

“You check…Book of…Thoth?” came Jake’s reply. Leave it to the man to want to help delve into books even in his own plight. “Or…Jamshid? Cintamani?” He coughed, the blankets shivering again. “ooooohhhhhshit….”

The blankets were thrown off and Jones backpedaled as Jake flew out of the bed intent on the bathroom. He stumbled and ricocheted hard off of the doorframe once before managing to get into the bathroom, falling to his knees just in time to retch over the toilet.

Ezekiel followed with a blanket, wrapping it around the other man as he shook, his head resting on his arm on the seat. The thief felt Jake heave, although by this time there was nothing left to throw up. Even as Jake shivered, a cold sweat rolled down his forehead at the effort and Ezekiel grabbed a washcloth, wiping it away.

Jake slumped then, starting to fall against the wall before Jones redirected him, holding him against the softer rest of his own body. Jake’s dark head lay against his shoulder, his eyes closed as he panted softly. “…pu’ me…outta…m’ mis’ry,” he whispered, his drawl heavy.

“Nah. We’re gonna keep you around as long as we can, mate,” Jones said before looking up, having heard footsteps coming into the bathroom behind them.

“What happened?” Eve asked softly, seeing them sitting on the floor.

“Takin’…breather…” Jake muttered, not moving.

“Jenkins may have found something,” she said, crouching down next to them. “And so has Cassandra. We’re going to head out and see if either of them will work.”

“Thoth…?” Jake muttered, his bleary eyes rising to meet her under wet bangs.

“Something like that?“ she said, the last word rising in a question. “Lha Thoth….um…

“Lha Thothori Nyantsen,” the scholar managed with difficulty. “Cin….Cintamani Stone….”

“He said something about that earlier,” Jones said, squeezing Jake’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, the other is the Holy Grail and I don’t think we’ll have much luck finding that one in a hurry,” Baird muttered. 

Before Stone could even draw a breath to start philosophizing, Eve reached forward. Between the two of them, they managed to get Jake up onto his feet and headed back to the bed. “I brought hot water bottles,” she whispered, lifting up the quilts. They heard a moan of relief as Jake slid under the covers and into the warmth, curling up into his cocoon.

The door opened and Jenkins came in quietly, another stack of books in his arms, this time small enough to see over. “Go, both of you,” he said, setting them down on the table next to the bed. “Flynn and Ms. Cillian are waiting for you. I shall endeavor to research a little more while you are gone.”

Eve nodded curtly and left, shooing Ezekiel before her.

“Well, Mr. Stone, let us see how far I can get before our young friends return,” the caretaker said as he settled into the stuffed chair beside the bed, a book open on his lap. A soft mutter came from the pile of blankets before turning into a snore.

 

*******

 

The Library door opened with a swirl of blue and white lights and the four Librarians jumped through, Cassandra breaking from the group to race up the staircase towards their rooms. She burst through Jake’s door, nearly causing Jenkins to fall out of the chair he was sitting on. The book, however, didn’t have his lightning fast reflexes and fell, landing on Jenkins’ foot.

“Blast!” he uttered, jumping up slightly and shaking his foot. “Ms. Cillian….”

“SorryJenkinsbutwefoundsomething!” she burst out, bouncing up and down in her excitement.

“We found this thing in Tibet, it’s one of like four things that fell out of the sky….” she started, only to see the caretaker nodding, then he took over the narrative. 

“The Cintamani Stone,” he said, still nodding. “It’s of Hindu origins and is similar to The Philosopher's Stone, but can be used to heal or treat ailments. The upside is each time it is used it increases one's life expectancy and if carried at all times the person can become immortal. In Buddhism the Cintamani is said to be one of four relics that came in a chest that fell from the sky (many items fell from the sky in caskets) during the reign of king Lha Thothori Nyantsen of Tibet.”

She blinked. “Yeah. That.”

“Told’ja,” came the murmur from under the blankets as Jake roused.

“In point of fact, you told Mr. Jones,” Jenkins said, receiving a huff from the covered mound.

“How is he?” Cassandra asked.

“ _He_ is fine,” Jake groused. 

“ _He_ is grumpy,“ the caretaker corrected pointedly. “His fever has fallen and the chills are a little better right now; he is under only thirteen blankets instead of fourteen…”

A cuss-filled mutter answered him to Cassandra’s amusement.

“But you said you have the Sto…” he began before the door to the room opened and the others flooded with a gaggle of words.

“We got it!” Ezekiel crowed, quickly deflating as he saw Jenkins nodding and Cassandra rolling her eyes. “What?”

“Yeah, apparently these two….”

“…learned scholars…”

She rolled her eyes harder. “These two _learned scholars_ already know aaaaallllll about about the Cintamani Stone.”

An exasperated scowl appeared on Jones’ face but Eve stepped in front of him. “Good, then they’ll know how to administer the cure,” she said, handing the ordinary looking rock to Jenkins.

He was non-plussed as he looked at the item in his hand. “Oh. Uuuh-hum. Actually. No, I don’t,” he admitted with a tiny sigh, his cheeks turning just a little pink.

The four of them exchanged a round of looks, growing more and more worried. “So….if you don’t know to use it to make Jake better…..” Ezekiel started slowly.

“Alchemy…” Jake wheezed, ending in a cough as he sucked in another breath.

The Librarians eyes widened as they looked at Jenkins.

“Ah, yes.” The caretaker had the grace to look chagrined. “A new symptom. He’s started to have a little trouble breathing at times. Nothing to be alarmed about at this point, but I fear it may start to get worse before we can figure out a method of delivery.”

“Then we need to brush up on our alchemy, it sounds like,” Flynn pointed out, his voice holding a touch of befuddlement.

“On it!” Cassandra piped up with enthusiasm, jumping to her feet and bolting out the door. They could hear her feet pattering down the hall to the depths of the Library.

“Jake, can you point us in the direction of any good research?” Eve asked gently, bending over the inert bundle in the bed.

“Try…the Recovery of Aristotle * _cough_ *,” he started, his voice soft. “Then look at…um…Holmyard and von Franz….back to * _cough_ * Pseudo-Democritus * _cough_ *…”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough to get us started,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “Get some more rest and let us work. We’ll get back to you as soon as we can.” 

******* 

Throughout the rest of the day and into the night, Jenkins would appear to one of the Librarians depending on where they were in their work to give them a note about a certain work or scroll that Jake had thought of, the scholar’s mind never completely stopping, even to rest for himself. Finally, Eve asked Jenkins to make a tea for Stone to _make_ him sleep. 

Jenkins came to her an hour later to let her know that Jake was finally asleep, and knowing how little he’d actually _rested_ over the last few days, he expected the ill man to probably sleep through until at least the following afternoon. 

Relieved that Jake was in good hands, she turned back to an esoteric treatise that she’d been steered to, barely hearing the caretaker’s steps as he left. 

After a week of research, the trials began. Cassandra, with her mathematical and magical synesthesia helping her, took hold of the reins of the experimentation phase, throwing herself into the work. The clipping book was quiet, of which the Librarians were extremely happy, allowing them to focus their minds and energy on helping their own. 

Jake was as good a sport as he could be, accepting the disgusting potions, each seemingly more unpalatable than the last. Finally, he shook his head. 

“I… I can’t, Cass….” he wheezed, pressing his lips together and turning his head. The last three trials had given him such excruciating stomach pains, and the last elixir adding lung constriction to his already difficult breathing. They’d had a tense and terrifying few hours as Jake had struggled to bring air into lungs that felt like they weighed a ton, each breath a hard fought battle. 

When the effects finally wore off, he put a stop to the line of analysis that she was working on. The Recovery of Aristotle was shelved and Holmyard and von Franz was brought to the fore. That pair gave Jake heart palpitations and he suffered through a racing heart and an over-abundance of adrenalin and that avenue was quickly abandoned as well. They worked through Pseudo-Democritus, Zosimos of Panapolis, Mary the Jewess, and finally, after nearly a month of work, settled on a conglomeration of Egyptian, East Indian, and Buddhist ideas. 

Jake was holding on by a thread. He’d lost weight over the last month and now struggled to walk, having at first had no energy and now weakened muscle tone. He’d pushed Jenkins, Flynn and Ezekiel let him get out of bed in the beginning, having hated to be just lying around even though he could barely walk. Now, he relied on them just to help him stand and wobble the few feet to the bathroom and he was exhausted for the rest of the day. 

Cassandra now stood at his door, rocking from one foot to the other, holding her latest experiment. She chewed her lip in indecision; Jake couldn’t take many more of her ‘experiments’, using him as a human guinea pig was both unfair and dangerous, but there was no alternative. And if they didn’t at least try, he would die anyway. 

“I can hear ya out there,” she heard him rasp, and she gathered the courage to open the door. He lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, his eyes sunken and cheeks getting more and more pronounced each day. His skin was pale from lack of sun and she could tell he was drained just from the state of simply being awake. 

“Um…” she hesitated, stepping forward. 

“Got…another…one?” he asked, rolling his head on the pillows to look at her. Each morning she looked at the skull and crossbones on his wrist, and each day it was darker. From a mere shadow in the beginning, it was now nearly black. Time was running out. 

“Yeah…one more,” she said softly. 

“ ‘Kay,” he gulped. “I…I’ll….try…” 

It was almost more than she could handle to start the little fire in the censure, holding the metal plate that held her tonic over the flame. “Try to breathe this in, Jake,” she instructed, aiming the smoke toward him. 

She bit her lip as he did so, holding her breath not out of fear of inhaling the tonic herself, but of what his reaction would be. 

Her eyes widened as she watched Jake and she bellowed, “ _Eve! FLYNN! Somebody come quick!!!_ “ 


	3. A Battle of Wills

“ _QUICK!!!_ ” Cassandra’s voice echoed down the halls of the library, rapidly followed by thumps and curses and then running footsteps. They were all afraid of what had happened.

Cassandra had become more and more morose as each of her trials failed, and she was increasingly worried about continuing. They all knew what a terrible toll it was taking on Jake, but until he ordered them to stop, they would keep trying everything they could. Her latest experiment was perhaps the most dangerous they’d tried, since even a minuscule mistake could make Jake stop breathing altogether.

Hurtling down the corridors, they each managed to get to Jake’s room nearly at the same time, creating a bottleneck of sorts at the door.

“Ladies first!” Jenkins snapped, and Ezekiel and Flynn paused long enough for Eve to dart between them and into the room. Jenkins opportunistically followed, leaving the two other men to blink and lurch after them.

Expecting the worst from Cassandra’s strident voice, they were struck dumb for a moment when they saw her nearly vibrating off the edge of the bed, her hands clasped and a bright smile on her face. Jake wasn’t nearly as chipper, but they could tell that the cure seemed to have worked.

“You’re awake!!” Ezekiel whooped, a grin plastering his features.

“He would seem to be,” Jenkins smiled, feeling the tension of the room dissipate. 

“Duh,” the man in the bed rasped, his attention already over his newest visitors. He relaxed back into the pillows. While he was still pale and tired looking, his color was better and the seemingly ever-present wheeze was gone from his breathing. “Thanks, Cassie,” he said, only his eyes lifting to the redhead, who smiled brightly.

“I’m so glad it worked!” Her tone was quiet, but her meaning clear.

“Alright lads, ladies,” Jenkins said, clapping lightly to get their attention. “Mr. Stone has to rest now. _Really_ rest,” he added. While the scholar had been doing almost nothing but sleeping for the past month, he hadn’t actually gotten any of the healing rest his body needed.

A gentle snoring followed them out and when Eve glanced back, she saw Jake sleeping already, his lips slightly parted. “ _Finally_ ,” she sighed with relief.

Cassandra motioned to them with an urgent wave of her hand, beckoning them further down the hallway. Eve shut the bedroom door firmly behind her and joined the others.

“What is it?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“That antidote….” Cassandra bit her lips, her fingers twisting themselves together. “It…it’s…”

“What is it already!?” Jones burst out before Flynn shushed him.

“It’s kinda temporary,” she admitted.

“Temporary?” Jenkins repeated, as if to clarify the simple concept.  
“Yeah. It works,” she rushed to assure them. “But he has to keep taking it every day.”

“Every _day_?” This time it was Flynn who repeated her.

She nodded. “He has to take it every day in order to keep the symptoms from coming back, or developing into something else.”

“Something _else_?”

Cassandra tilted her head at Eve, her eyes a little wide and asked, “Is everyone just going to keep repeating what I’m saying?”

They had the grace to all look chagrined for a moment before Jenkins spoke up. “Would you care to explain your findings in detail, Miss Cillian?”

She nodded and swallowed, marshaling her thoughts. “Well, unfortunately, the mix of Egyptian, East Indian, and Buddhist remedies that I came up with, some of the ingredients counter-act with others. I don’t know why, but each time I tried, the potion only lasted 26 hours at most. That’s one of the reasons I hesitated to try it but we were running out of time and I was scared that Jake would die before I could figureoutanythingelseand…”

She gulped in a breath and Jenkins put his hand on her shoulder. “You just gave him all the time we need, my dear. Now we can continue to search to see if there is another cure, but for now, he is alive.”

“And he’s going to get better,” Flynn added. “A couple of days and I don’t doubt he’ll be back in the stacks somewhere.”

 

*******

 

It was more like a week before Jake was finally feeling well enough to leave his room. His appetite grew and he ate well, but he still, frustratingly, fell asleep at the drop of a hat as his body caught up. He scowled inwardly each time Cassie came in with the ‘treatment’, and she swore she was working on something that would work without burning the potion over a censure, but he dutifully breathed it in. Especially since Eve started hovering over him after he’d balked the second day.

“Whaddya mean, I gotta take it again?” he growled, glaring at the container of potion.

“You have to take it once every day,” she started to explain.

“Every _day_?”

“Really?” she huffed. “Why does everyone repeat me??”

He didn’t know what to say about that. “Why everyday?” he asked instead. 

She explained what she’d told the others and he sat back, his thoughts turned inward at the problem until she prodded his shoulder, looking up in a little bit of startlement. “Oh. Yeah. Okay. Fine.”

She gave him a Look and he just made a face. He did cooperate though, breathing it in deeply, which was better than he had managed the previous day. He had to admit, it did clear out his lungs even further, making it easier to breathe without feeling like he was going to choke with each inhalation.

“Every day, huh?”

She gave him a little smile at the glum tone of his voice. “Every day. But I’m still trying to make it better.”

“I know you will, Cassie.”

 

*******

 

About the same time that Jake felt well enough to start wandering the Library again, Cassandra managed to figure out how to make an inhaler of sorts with the potion instead of having to ignite the mixture. This made it possible for Jake to have it on his person at all times so that he could take it by himself.

Actually _taking_ his medicine was a more problematic affair though, as they found out.

 

*******

 

“….shit….” Eve barely heard the mutter behind her before the awful wheezing began again, and she and Cassandra whirled around, one on each side of the scholar. Jake was pale, his lips beginning to turn blue as he stumbled. The women helped him sit and watched as the symptoms gradually eased until he was breathing easier.

“You didn’t take your inhaler, did you,” Eve said, not even bothering to make it a question. Rolling her eyes, she smacked him on the shoulder until he growled at her.

“Dammit,” he muttered, glaring.

“How long has it been?” Cassandra asked, chewing her bottom lip in worry as she saw that the bluish tint wasn’t receding from his lips.

He shrugged and muttered something under his breath that they strained to hear.

“Twenty-six… _twenty-six hours?!??_ ” Cassandra yelped. “Where is it? Your inhaler…where… _Jake!!_ ”

Her exclamation went unheeded by the scholar as he suddenly toppled onto the floor, his body convulsing. The redhead was frozen in fear but Eve lunged forward, holding her hands under Jake’s head so that it wouldn’t slam on the floor. 

“Check his pockets!” she yelled, spurring Cassandra into action. She jumped, nearly falling to her knees in her haste, her hands digging into his pockets and finally coming up with the medication. Jacob’s jaw was locked, but they managed to part his lips enough that Cassandra was able to spray it into his lungs when he inhaled.

By the time the seizure stopped, the others were in the annex as well.

“What happened?”

“Is he alright?”

“Bloody hell!”

The rush of voices stopped as Jake moaned softly, his eyes struggling to open.

“I’m going to give you another dose, Jake,” Cassandra said, dialing the inhaler. “You didn’t get enough this time.”

He opened his mouth, either to inhale or argue, but she didn’t pause to figure out which. Pressing the button dispensed the medication into his system and he coughed a little, his forearms rising from the floor as he tried ineffectively to bat their hands away.

“Stop, Jake,” Eve said gently, and his hands stilled, falling to rest lightly on his lower stomach. 

“Again, I’ll ask: what happened?” Jenkins piped up.

“Fool didn’t take his medication today,” she replied with a huff.

“What if this happens and he doesn’t have his inhaler? Or it doesn’t work for some reason?” Flynn wondered out loud.

Cassandra sat back on her heels and thought for a moment as Jake rolled onto his side, groaning. “I’ll have to think of something, like an emergency dose… Like an Epi-pen or something.”

“Got something…for a killer…headache, too…?” came a painfully strained voice from the floor. Looking down, she saw Stone had grabbed his head and his eyes were clenched tightly closed. “Fuuuuck…..” he breathed.

Ezekiel started to say something but thought better of it when Jenkins darted a quick Look at him. “Let’s get him back to his room,” the caretaker whispered, so quiet that they had to strain to hear.

With Jones on one side and Flynn on the other, they managed to get Jake off the floor and to his feet, though to say he was walking was a bit of a stretch. His body hunched over as far as he could without rolling onto the floor again, he trusted the two to steer him….somewhere, Jake really didn’t care as long as it was dark and quiet and warm. His head felt like it was being ripped in half, throbbing with each thunderous beat of his heart.

He hated this.

_Hated_ it.

Not only because it was a weakness in himself, but because the only way around it was daily _!daily!_ use of magic, which he abhorred. It was bad enough that he was tasked with the safety of the magical items in the Library, but to have an illness like this, one that didn’t seem to have a cure, that necessitated the intake of a little bit of magic every day. Magic that could, if he had done his research correctly (and when had he ever not?), mean that he himself was becoming immortal, even if just a little.

He didn’t understand why the Library chose a man like himself, one wary as hell of magic and its’ uses, as keeper of the very magic he was afraid of.

And that was another thing. He feared magic. Not because of what it could do to him, but what it could unleash on the world if used indiscriminately. He’d suffered the ‘curse’, as he saw it, of the Monkey King’s tattoo, and it was hard enough to get that straight in his head without adding more on top of it. He knew in his head that it wasn’t true, but he felt like he was losing a little of his humanity each time he used that inhaler.

 

*******

 

“So… Seizures? Migraines?” Flynn asked when they were all back in the annex sans Jake.

Jenkins tilted his head and they all looked at him. “The original onset of the illness manifested as meningitis, yes?” 

“Yeeeesss…..?” Cassandra said, not sure where he was going with that question.

“Well, if I have made the correct connections, meningitis can lead to both seizures and migraines. As well as deafness, sepsis, encephalitis, tuberculosis…”

“Stop!” she exclaimed in horror. “He’s not going to die!!”

“Of course not, my dear Ms. Cillian,” he reassured her. “I’m just stating that there are worse things that could have happened.”

“Worse than a _seizure_ , mate?”

“Well…..” The caretaker trailed off.

“I think work on that magical Epi-Pen should start, pronto,” Jones piped up, his eyes sliding to Cassandra.

“No kidding,” she said dryly, making a face at the thief before hurrying off.


	4. A Revelation Of Sorts and A Matter of Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter, hope you all like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I stole another prompt: **What if Jacob Stone now feels better when he’s amongst the trees. So instead of staying in an apartment he sleeps in a hammock in the library, grows out his hair and takes care of baby trees in the library.*
> 
> Ooooh, this was so cute! And the added bonus of Jake growing out his hair? YES, PLEASE! And it fits well with where this storyline is heading, so I shoved it in. ;)

Jacob spent the rest of that afternoon and well into the night buried in his bed again, breathing shallowly this time because any sudden movement, including that of his lungs, cause a blindingly intense spike of pain deep into his skull. He’d already thrown up twice, hunched over and shivering next to the porcelain throne, his head falling off of his shoulders and bouncing down the hall. After miraculously materializing back onto his body, he managed to pick himself up (ok, _lurch_ himself up) off of the floor and stagger like a drunken flamingo back to his bed.

He didn’t spend any time thinking, which was a sort of miracle in itself, since his brain hadn’t seemed to stop from infancy. But as time wore on and the migraine lessened, he started to ponder this latest development.

He knew full well that meningitis could lead to migraines and seizures, as well as a multitude of other illnesses, illnesses which he hoped would not manifest. But magic AND TB?? He really did not need that, seriously, folks.

So he concentrated on what he did know, and what symptoms he did have. Difficulty breathing, check. Cassandra had found a cure of sorts for that, and even managed to modernize it so he could carry it on his person, so Go Team Cassie! He apparently had to take it everyday, though, which was a downer for him. Even though none of the others had seemed to attach any sort of stigma to it, he still felt weak having to take a daily medication.

However, avoiding it was apparently Not Recommended, as his traitorous body had so humiliatingly showed him. He wasn’t sure how much of the headache was from the seizure and how much was from that blasted concrete floor.

Back to the point of magic, because he just couldn’t stop picking at that particular wound, he realized grudgingly that he would just have to bite the bullet, so to speak. If he wanted to live, that is.

Maybe Jenkins would have pointers on being immortal.

 

*******

 

Three days later, Jake was cleared to go on a mission from the Clipping Book. Mother Eve had already asked four times if he’d taken his inhaler, and he’d answered three times, then glared silently at her the last time.

“Fine!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “If you didn’t and you’re lying, you’ll just die out there in timbuktu and I’m not gonna drag your ass back here!”

“Seriously, Eve,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “For the last time, I took it already. And just in case, I brought it along with me, okay?” He dug into his pocket and pulled out the little inhaler, holding it up to her inspection.

“Good,” she huffed, and then opened the door.

 

*******

 

Days went by, then weeks, and then months. Every so often Jake would forget to take the medication, more often in the beginning, but each time, his body would warn him. If he ignored the warning, then his body would betray him by seizing, and after the crisis passed he’d get an intervention by whomever happened to be with him at the moment.

He was really getting tired of that. Thankfully, it didn’t happen during a mission.

Until one day, it did.

 

*******

 

The four of them were running flat out, trying to escape the monster that was bearing down on them. Honestly, it _was_ just a bear, but it had seemed so much bigger when it had risen on it’s back legs and roared, spittle flying from it’s jaws.

Ezekiel tripped on a tree root just in front of Jake and the scholar grabbed onto his arm, jerking him back up before he’d even started to fall to his knees. Cassandra and Eve were just steps ahead of them when they suddenly seemed to disappear right in front of their eyes, but when the two men took those last two steps, they saw that the women had jumped down into a ravine and suddenly bolted to the left.

They followed, hoping that their disappearance and change of direction would confuse the lumbering beast. Eve and Cassie had thrown themselves into a copse of bushes and suddenly froze, and the others did the same.

Thundering steps echoed on the hill above and behind them, and they held a collective breath as it shuffled to a stop. A snorting whuffle sounded as the bear stopped and scented, it’s nose quivering in the air. The scent of prey had disappeared in an instant, leaving the animal confused. For a few moments, it swung it’s great head back and forth, searching, but it was well fed and this hunt was getting boring, so it turned and lumbered away, the sound of gigantic paws crushing the twigs fading into the distance.

The Librarians slowly thawed from their frozen state, cautiously breathing again as they relaxed bit by bit.

“Holy crap, mate!” Jones breathed, as if still afraid the bear would return. “That was close!!”

Jake was hunched over, his hands on his knees and his shoulders shaking.

“You can breathe, now, you know,” the thief snarked, slapping him between the shoulder blades. Jake shook his head, looking up with a worried frown on his face, his cheeks red and his lips blue.

“Dammit, Jake!” Eve yelled, pushing him upright and slapping at his pockets, trying to find his inhaler.

“Jake!” Cassandra cried, grabbing onto one of his arms as the stocky man started to sag, his knees giving out. Ezekiel grabbed his other arm just in time to help ease him onto his back.

“I thought you knew better!” Eve was scolding him, her words sounding far away as Jake struggled to breathe.

“Did…” he gasped. “Took it…early…..”

“Then why isn’t it working??” the Guardian asked, digging the inhaler out of his pocket. She dialed the correct amount and held it to his mouth, pressing the button when he inhaled.

There was only a weak hiss.

“What!?!??” Cassie grabbed the inhaler out of Eve’s hand and shook it. “It should work!! It’s still half full, it says there’s more! Why doesn’t it work?!?”

Her voice was getting more and more frantic as they watched Jake slip into another seizure, his back arching off the ground and his hands curling as he shook. Eve was near his head, holding it gently as he grimaced.

“Can’t you do anything??” Jones asked, his voice high and tight with worry.

“I….I…” Cassandra started, then swung her little backpack around, dumping it out in her haste to find what she was looking for. 

“Got it!” she exclaimed, holding up what looked like a standard Epi-Pen.

“You figured it out!” Eve said, her eyes brightening.

“Don’t congratulate me until it works,” the redhead said grimly, grabbing the cap in her teeth. Her thumb on the end, she jammed it into his muscular thigh and depressed the trigger, holding it in place for about 15 seconds before pulling it out.

By that time, Jake was taking shuddering breaths, the seizure slowly calming until he finally relaxed, panting, his eyes closed.

“Congratulations,” Eve said quietly, and Cassandra looked up at her. “It worked.”

“For now,” she said. “It could be a temporary fix, and his symptoms can come back. We need to get back to the Library. Fast.”

The other two nodded and took Jake’s arms, lifting him to his feet. He groaned as they moved him, and Eve quietly shushed him.

“I know, Jake, but we’ve got to get back and get you your inhaler.”

“Jus’…leave me….here….” he said, feeling off balance. He’d been resting against a tree root the few moments after the seizure, and something clicked in his brain as he was pulled up, his headache coming back in full force. He couldn’t concentrate on that germ of thought now, though; the pain was too great.

“No, we have to get back to the Library,” Cassandra’s soft voice cut through the fog and he just nodded once and let them help him.

He felt the ‘whoosh’ as they went through the door, and then heard Jenkins’ worried ‘tsk’, then other hands steered him toward a couch, helping him sit.

He turned and laid down, his back to them, burying his aching head into the cushion. Someone covered his head with a blanket and he whimpered softly, then a gentle hand stroked his back as someone small perched beside him.

He heard soft voices as they whispered behind him, and then Cassie spoke. “Jake. Jake, c’mon, you have to take your inhaler now.”

He grumbled under the blanket, louder when it was pulled away, but held his hand out blindly and someone put the small device into his palm. Trusting that they’d dialed the amount for him, since he was cross-eyed with pain at the moment, he inhaled it and buried his head again.

“Okay, Jake, we’ll leave you alone now,” he heard Eve whisper, and he waved his hand in acknowledgement.

They backed away quietly, none of them actually leaving the annex while Jake rested.

It was about four hours later when he stirred, rolling over and pushing himself up to sit, his hand raising to rub at his face as he groaned. Opening his eyes carefully, he noticed first that they’d dimmed the lights for him, but they were all still there, working quietly at their desks.

Or in Jones’ case, playing a video game quietly at his desk.

“What’re you guys still doing here?” he rasped, his voice rough.

“Oh, you know….stuff….” Cassandra said brightly, followed by Eve’s dry chuckle.

“Actually getting a little work done,” the Guardian said, straightening a sheaf of papers and setting the file in her ‘Out’ box. “It was quiet for a change.”

Jake raised a brow but didn’t say anything about it. “M’kay,” he said instead, rising to his feet.

“Don’t even think about it, Mr. Stone.” Jenkins magically appeared at his elbow as Jake turned to his own desk, turning the scholar around with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re heading for an actual _rest_ ,” he said, pointing toward the bedrooms.

“Fine,” Jake grumbled, trying to put on annoyed front while being pretty satisfied with the thought of a soft bed and darker room.

He trudged toward the door of the annex but before he reached it, he turned back to Cassandra with a soft smile on his face. “Thanks, Cass. You did it again.”

She perked up and gave him one of her megawatt smiles and he smirked at the sight before walking through the door. 

 

Epilogue - A Matter of Trees

 

“Really, Jake?” Ezekiel drawled, looking around at the atrium that Jake had commandeered. Every table was covered with pots and planters of every size and shape, filled with tiny trees and bushes that the scholar was lovingly nursing into growth. Larger ones sat in huge pots on the floor, and just outside the windows Jones could see where Jake had started a farm, planting trees not in rows, but wherever they ‘told’ him they wanted to settle.

“Wh…hmm??” Jake muttered, distracted. His hands were covered in dirt as he repotted a smaller tree into a larger pot, a strand of his now-long hair dangling across his nose.

Cassandra had been enchanted by the curls that had appeared as Jake had started to grow his hair out, digging her fingers into his thick locks every chance she got. He let her do it more often these days, a pleasure for both of them as she scratched his scalp with her tiny nails and then gave him a massage. The best times were when they were just sitting in the baby forest he was starting in the back and he woke with his head resting against a tree root.

Since the incident with the Epi-Pen, Jake had thought a lot about how he’d felt when he had laid on the tree root. He’d felt calm even though it was hard to breathe, like there was someone, or some _thing_ , metaphorically holding his hand and trying to help.

After recuperating from that migraine, he started going outside when the time limit grew shorter and his breathing grew harder. He wasn’t stupid; he took both the inhaler and a fresh Epi-Pen with him wherever he went now, but he wanted to test his theory.

And it worked, to a degree. When he was at the limits of the medication, if he was in a forest, he could hold off for another two hours, sometimes a little more, before resorting to the inhaler. Only once had he had to use the Epi-Pen, and that had been a terrifying experience to go through without the others, but he didn’t want them to worry, or talk him out of it. He _had_ to know how much time he had before things went too wrong.

He felt curiosity from the trees at first, and then apprehension and a little fear as he kept testing himself. After the incident with the Epi-Pen, however, he got scolded by the trees for going too far.

He got scolded. By the _trees_. 

If he hadn’t gone through everything he’d gone through in the last few years he’d have signed himself right up for a white jacket, arms extra long, please.

So he decided that he would start growing his own little forest, and the trees liked the idea of being nearer to them than they currently were and obligingly set off runners that he could transplant. They grew amazingly fast too, as if the trees had suspended growth of their twigs and branches and instead concentrated on growing the tiny offshoots as fast as they could.

Now, instead of having to walk across the street and through a well manicured park, there was a miniature forest growing right next to the Library atrium. The glass walls looked out onto the trees, oaks, pine, maple and countless others. They seemed to ‘promise’ that they would grow straight and tidy, but keep themselves small so that the city wouldn’t come by and demand that they be cut down for being an eyesore.

Jake, feeling a little wilder blood flowing in his veins, whether from the trees or the magic he wasn’t sure, began to let his hair grow out as he spent more and more of his free time in the atrium. He’d spend an hour or so weeding and tending, then settle down in his hammock beneath the first evergreen that he’d planted. The bottom limb always seemed to sweep just over his head, little needles tickling his ear as he read. If a gentle breeze blew, the supple, long hanging branches of the willow tree would trail over his foot.

He didn’t mind at all, in fact, it felt like quiet companions sitting with him, reading along with him. He’d let his head fall back on the padded pillow and just drift, listening to the peculiar and distinctive chatter of the trees.

His friends.

“You’re in here again?” Ezekiel asked, stepping a little closer as his eyes traveled up one trunk and down another.

Jake finally looked up, turning his full attention on the thief. “Um, yeah, where should I be?”

“In the stacks, I duno! Like…researching something!”

“Well, I already looked up that description on 16th century Roman chariots and harnesses that Eve wanted for some reason, then Jenkins needed help to fine Heraclitus’ treatise On Nature from the Diels-Kranz numbering system, and Cass….”

“Okay, alright, you’re still a nerd.” Jones watched as Stone’s hands gently pressed the dirt back into the pot around the fragile root system. “So….trees, huh?”

Jake shrugged and grinned. “Yup. Trees.”


End file.
